


all we do is think about the feelings that we hide

by softest



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, cigarettes in the beginning, idk what this is, if you're bothered by that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6938086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softest/pseuds/softest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry and louis go on a drive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all we do is think about the feelings that we hide

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiii! so this is my first fic ever, as in i've never written fanfic before in my life. i've only ever read it. this piece was actually an english assignment, but for this purpose i've edited it to suit fanfiction "requirements". sorry this is cheesy, but i'm a girl who only ever writes for schoolwork. what can i say?
> 
> title from halsey's "drive" as well as the basis/inspo of the story

“Tank filled?” Louis burns his cigarette out onto the wet pavement. And when Louis moves, when he strides up to Harry, Harry feels hot, crazed, and charged. Glancing up at Louis though, Harry can see he doesn’t feel the same way, even though he saw Louis looking at him earlier, before they left to California. And when Harry says Louis was looking at him, he means Louis was _staring_. Louis' eyes had been tracing all over Harry's fiery skin, never missing an inch. Of course, Harry dismissed the look, no matter how antagonizing it was to refrain himself from stumbling up to Louis and kissing him, smoke in his pink mouth and all.

“Yeah, paid for and everything,” Harry's throaty voice makes out. A small quirk of Louis' lips fills Harry's empty body with something he hasn’t felt in months. Louis is still smirking at Harry when Harry realizes that he hasn’t made any move to get back in the car. Blushing, Harry swiftly ties his unruly, chocolate curls into a less-than-neat but perfectly acceptable bun and rushes into the faded green beat-up vehicle filled with empty soda bottles and crumpled Starbucks receipts. Louis mimics Harry's movements and crawls into the passenger seat, claiming he’s too tired to man the wheel. Harry sees right through him though and knows he’s only letting him drive his car because he knows Harry loves being in control of what’s happening.

When they pull out of the shady gas station, Louis turns the stereo on immediately. Harry would tease him about using an old stereo instead of opting for a getting an aux cord and using his phone like a normal person would if he wasn't feeling so jittery.

“No, H, just no. Thought you knew me better than that. As if I’d succumb to modern technology,” Louis would scoff, and Harry would smile into his numb hand.

Soft, indie music alleviates the situation. He’ll never confess this but Louis loves the “sappy, hipster shit" just as much as Harry does. The thought makes Harry feel buzzed. Louis begins tapping his fingers slowly to the smooth beat. Harry peaks every now and again to witness the lazy movements, and it feels his chest with such a powerful yearning that he almost swerves. Louis catches the jolt, of course he does, and gazes at Harry's scorched face. The cotton of Harry's peach, cotton T-shirt suddenly sticks to his feverish skin, and Louis is still staring, and Harry feels anxiously tipsy. From what, he doesn’t know.

Maybe him. Yes, him.

_Louis._

 

_ My hands wrapped around a stick shift, _

_ Swerving on the 405. _

_ I can never keep my eyes o _ _ ff this. _

 

“H,” he starts but doesn’t finish, just releases an unsteady breath. He begins again, “H, are you okay?”

It’s unbearably endearing how concerned yet unbothered he sounds all at once. Harry, with God's help, manages to squeak out that he feels fine and asks for Louis to turn the volume up. Louis doesn’t appear to be convinced, and who can blame him, but Harry exposing his thoughts to him would surely be worse than crashing this car right now and killing them both.

 

_ All we do is drive. _

_ All we do is think about the feelings that we hide. _

_ All we do is sit in silence waiting for a sign. _

_ Sick and full of pride, _

_ All we do is drive. _

 

Suddenly, Louis' hand is on Harry's. soft yet rough, and Harry's pulse speeds up while the blood in his veins pumps expertly into and out of his heart. Louis' cool fingers are a sharp contrast to the sickly hot, burning knuckles of Harry's. It’s ludicrous how much this affects him, and Louis can tell. He can always tell. Harry's about to conjure up some silly story about actually needing to be home right then (the plants need watering, he left the stove on, he's expecting a very important package) when Louis' pink lips drift to his ear.

“I love you.” It’s tantalizing. The timid tingles trail along Harry's spine and envelope his body into a delectable coma of contentedness. Louis' nose grazes Harry's neck and suddenly Harry pulls over, ignoring the abrasive honks of other cars. They don't matter. When Harry turns to stare at Louis, he's able to see everything he's only ever dreamt of seeing from him. But this time it’s real.

 

_ It’s bliss. _

**Author's Note:**

> if you made it here, thank you so much for reading! whether you liked it or not, that's your call. feel free to point out silly errors i've made and say anything else you'd like! (sorry it's a short one!) all the love.


End file.
